


got me walkin' side to side

by sweetricebuns



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, copious amounts of bodily fluids really it's RIDICULOUS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 19:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19979416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetricebuns/pseuds/sweetricebuns
Summary: They're both really sweaty. It shouldn't be hot, but somehow, it is.





	got me walkin' side to side

**Author's Note:**

> me, two days ago: i don't think i'll ever write anything explicit  
> me, today: You Fool
> 
> inspired by [this babie](https://1drous.tumblr.com/post/186521756894/floralentropy-imagine-modern-au-damenlrnt) <3____<3  
> unedited because it's what damen would've wanted  
> title taken from ariana grande - side to side ft. nicki minaj

Laurent doesn’t quite know what to think about the state he and Damen are in. _It’s fucking disgusting, is what it is_ , his brain helpfully supplies. Laurent can’t find it in himself to care, attention solely on the heat curling low in his belly and the rough rolls of Damen’s hips against hiss.

“Babe,” Damen breathes against his neck, wet and warm and humid and _fuck_ it’s so bad but also, it’s, like, really fucking hot? All he can do is whimper in response. Laurent tangles his fingers in Damen’s hair, and the strands are soaked to the root with sweat. “Baby,” Damen repeats, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses against the skin of Laurent’s throat, and Laurent tugs imperiously at his damp curls in response.

“Fucking what,” Laurent grinds out. The muscles in his thighs are throbbing with a pointed ache, but the burden of instigating any movement falls on him, thanks to his position on Damen’s lap, and he _needs_ to come. His desire comes out in waves so thick he can taste it. He grinds down, particularly vicious, and the feeling of Damen’s stiff cock pushing up against his own makes them both groan. “Really all you should be concerned about now is getting me off, so pray tell, Damen, _what_?”

He’s rather proud of how stable he sounds.

Damen huffs a soft, if slightly shaky, amused breath against Laurent’s throat. The sound of it is fond. Laurent has half a mind to say _I love you, what the fuck_. The thought is drowned out by the static that consumes him when Damen’s hands move from their place on Laurent’s hips, past the waistband of his sweats, and down to his ass. “Just,” he says, placing one more kiss on Laurent’s adam’s apple before pulling away, “you sure you want to do this here?” It’s stupid sweet that Damen’s thinking of Laurent’s sensibilities in the midst of them grinding against each other like teenagers, but Damen has also stopped moving and is still kneading Laurent’s ass cheeks like it’s fucking putty, _what the fuck_ , and he can’t think. It’s so, so stupidly hot and Laurent _needs_. 

Before Laurent can even think to babble a response, Damen is pulling apart his ass cheeks with rough hands. The sudden burst of cool air against Laurent’s hole makes him keen. “Babe?” Damen tries again. Laurent knows Damen is screwing with him now, knows that if he turned his face down and opened his eyes, he’d come face to face with Damen’s dimple, and the frustration makes him grip onto Damen’s hair tighter. (Some part of him worries that he’ll tug the strands out, which would be a shame, because he loves Damen’s hair.) He still can’t think, and he’s moving his hips in a desperate plea for friction, but Damen isn’t giving. Laurent, irrationally, wants to cry.

“Damen—” There’s pressure against his hole, and Laurent realizes that Damen is pressing the pad of his finger against his rim, rubbing through the damp fabric of his underwear and, _oh, the bastard_. “Oh—”

“Yes?” He’s grinning now. Laurent can hear it. He opens his eyes, looks down, and he’s hit with an overwhelming urge to kiss the man, but he also needs something, needs friction needs pressure needs more needs Damen and they still aren’t moving and Damen’s still rubbing and—

“You utter shit,” Laurent says, imploringly. His hands move down, one gripping onto Damen’s shoulder while the other travels past the band of Damen’s gym shorts to grasp at Damen’s cock. Damen’s eyelids flutter closed as he groans, and it’s so mind-numbingly hot that Laurent almost cries. The pressure against Laurent’s rim is steady now, more a firm press rather than fleeting swipes, and he grinds down against it as he begins to stroke featherlight touches against the length in his hand. His leg muscles sing with pain, but Laurent pays it no mind. “Lube?” he asks mindlessly, a little lightheaded. He swipes this thumb across the mess of precum at Damen’s tip, and uses that to ease the slide of his palm against Damen’s cock. It’s rigid to the touch, warm and a little damp from sweat and Laurent’s mouth waters.

“Bag,” Damen replies, and his head is thrown back, a little dazed. His breath hitches, just as Laurent twists his hand on an upstroke, and Laurent is helpless and in love and suddenly ( _stupidly_ , his brain adds), he can’t fathom crossing the four feet it would take to get the lube from Damen’s bag. Laurent needs near, needs now, needs Damen Damen Damen _Damen_.

Laurent shifts up to take his cock out of his pants, red and dripping at the tip, and Damen moans at the sight of it. Despite their chests pressed flush against each other, Damen pulls Laurent impossibly closer. Their cocks, hard and aching, press firm together between their bodies as a result, and Laurent groans. “Damen,” Laurent rasps, hips moving in small circles as he wraps his hand around their cocks. It’s hard, a little dry. The friction is more pain than pleasure, and before he can think about it, he’s pulling back and spitting onto their cocks and into his palm. When he moves his hand again, he sighs, flicking his wrist up and down.

When he looks up at Damen, he’s staring wide-eyed at him. A beat later, he stutters Laurents name out, groaning before capturing Laurent’s lips in a kiss. It’s wet and messy, more hot breath and tongue than anything. “You are so hot,” he moans into Laurent’s mouth, bucking up into Laurents fist and against Laurent’s cock. “So hot, so dirty,” Damen murmurs, and Laurent flushes with indignation. Yet, he can’t quite bring himself to care, the velvet slick of their cocks sliding against each other overriding his senses. “All for me,” he hears Damen say, and it takes all of him to stifle an answering moan.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says instead, fighting to keep his voice steady. It’s weak, at best. “Damen—”

“All for me,” Damen repeats. Before Laurent can say anything, he feels fingers tapping at his bottom lip. Gathering whatever feeble defiance he can muster, he nips at Damen’s fingertips, sharp and hard. “Baby,” Damen tuts, reprimanding. He gazes at Laurent, patient, and embarrassment blooms in Laurent’s chest when, after a beat, he takes the fingers into his mouth and sucks. It tastes like salt, like sweat and it should be gross, but it isn’t, because it’s _Damen_. His cock twitches at the thought. He hears a sharp inhale as his grip on their cocks tighten.

They’re gyrating against each other, Laurent’s hand functioning simply to keep their cocks together, and it’s hot hot _hot_. He can feel his release, taste it, and the tightness low in his belly simmers and builds and builds. Overstimulated as he is, Laurent doesn’t realize Damen’s fingers are out of his mouth until he feels something wet press against his bare rim and _oh_ —

“Damen, fuck,” Laurent breathes as Damen presses the pad of his finger against his hole, rubbing slowly and oh oh oh oh—

Everytime his hips move back, Damen’s finger sinks just _that_ much into him and it’s exquisite. “Feel good?”

Laurent hisses as the finger enters him, just the tip, and the spit isn’t enough. It’s dripping down Damen’s hand and it burns burns burns but _oh_ , it’s so good—

“Look at you—”

“Fucking shut up—” Laurent groans as the finger enters him fully, and it’s so good, so good, and he can feel the slick tip of another skirting around his rim—

“So tight.”

Whatever Laurent tries to say to that turns into a mess of gibberish and expletives as Damen’s hand covers his own around their cocks, stroking and twisting, up and down, up and down, up and down up and down up and down up and down—

The heat in his belly crescendos and it’s tightening tightening tightening and so, _so_ good—

Another finger eases into Laurent just as Damen scrapes his nail against the underside of Laurent’s cock—

When his orgasm hits him, he comes so hard he sees stars.

When he comes to, he immediately notices two things: the mess of cum on him and Damen, and the twinge in his ass. Before he can give much thought to them, he is distracted by the sight of Damen’s fist moving furiously over his own cock. The sight reignites a thread of arousal in Laurent, and before he can think about it, he’s on his knees between Damen’s spread legs. He takes Damen’s length into his hand, stroking once or twice before he’s taking Damen’s cock into his mouth.

He hears Damen gasp his name above him, feels fingers clutch onto the roots of his hair as he suckles at the fat head, passing his tongue over the tip in wide licks. He trails kisses down the length of Damen’s cock until he gets to the base, nuzzling into the dark, damp curls and inhaling. The scent of Damen is musky, so strong and male that it has Laurent groaning before he’s licking back up Damen’s cock and taking him whole into his mouth. Damen’s hips buck up instantly, and it makes Laurent’s eyes water but he powers through it, letting Damen hold his hair and fuck his mouth as he chases his release. His own cock twitches in interest, and Laurent stifles a moan. It only takes a couple of thrusts and Laurent’s hand fondling Damen’s balls for him to spill into Laurent’s waiting mouth. Laurent swallows as much as he can.

Pulling off, Laurent uses a finger to swipe at the lines of cum dribbling from his mouth. He stares at it for a bit, and in his periphery, he sees Damen watching him.

“Laurent?” His voice is fucked out, and pride swells sweetly in Laurent’s chest.

He licks the cum off his finger, tongue dragging slowly against the appendage, before making a show of keeping the cum in his mouth and swallowing. He hears Damen’s breath hitch, and when Laurent looks up, it’s to see Damen with a pained expression on his face. Damen swoops down, cupping Laurent’s face in his hands, and kisses Laurent. It’s more mellow, sweeter, and Laurent’s heart melts a little as his hand comes up to grip one of Damen’s wrists.

When they pull apart, the smile on Damen’s face is stupidly happy.

It’s breathtaking, Damen’s smile. Blinding. He tucks himself back into his gym shorts and focuses on Laurent sitting on the floor.

“Can you stand?”

“I,” Laurent starts. He tucks his cock back into his briefs, grimacing as he does so. It’s gross and still damp and he hates it. Resigning himself to his fate, he tries to shimmy the waistband of his sweatpants higher up his hips, but his thighs twinge painfully with every movement. “Just give me a moment.”

His face burns with embarrassment when Damen laughs, cheery and bright. “Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments will be met with Unconditional Love And Adoration courtesy of me <3
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](https://1drous.tumblr.com/)!


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